


Let Me Sleep Forever

by Phaetniexs



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Fatal Frame 3 AU, M/M, violence is implied for now, we about to be sad bois
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24409669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phaetniexs/pseuds/Phaetniexs
Summary: It’s been two months since Ginoza had Kougami torn away from him, and such heavy, lingering regrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.
Relationships: Ginoza Nobuchika/Kougami Shinya
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> fixed the chapter count! I don’t know how long this is gonna be but it’s definitely more than one :^)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was so mad at everything; Kou for leaving him, of course, but himself most of all. How could he ever forgive himself? If Kougami was here, though, maybe it would all be okay again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I’m doing. This intro is a little short but I’ll update when I can :’)

It was raining again. Every day, it seemed. The gentle pitter-patter that used to be so comforting had slowly warped into a harsh reminder that the real world was out there. It was out there, and it wanted in. But at least he hadn’t had the nightmare this time. The human brain, cruel enough to retain minute details only for what’s best forgotten, always trying to drown him in a deluge of his special brand of horror. An argument. Dark, slippery country highway. Hydroplaning and a broken guardrail. Kougami, who’d always seemed so invincible, lifeless in the midst of it all. 

Ginoza glanced over at the clock that read 5:57am. Too early to get up, but too late to go back to sleep. He didn’t set his alarm these days; the demons in his head did well enough. Better to get up now anyway than wait for their claws to start tugging at the memories again. 

He sat up and set his feet on the cold, hardwood floor. Nothing was warm these days, but it helped him wake up a little, at least. Dime nosed Ginoza’s toes as a gentle ‘good morning,’ his big husky eyes somehow always endlessly caring. Maybe some things are still worth it, he thought, his features softening just a little. He reached down to scratch behind Dime’s ears in reply, with groggy promises of a nice walk later if the weather permitted. Then he rubbed the bridge of his nose to ground himself and grabbed his glasses before he got to dragging himself through another day. 

As a photographer, Ginoza got any number of strange assignments. Kougami had been an editor specializing in folklore and anthropology, but he used to make a game out of choosing the weirdest cases for them to go on together, when they were able to. Ginoza had always been the more reserved of the two, but sometimes it was fun to be pulled out of his shell for a while by the man he loved. Those memories were golden... but in the end, some treasures are better left buried. He hadn’t even been able to cry since the accident, anger sinking into place instead. But it still hurt too much to think about either way. 

Gino snapped back to the task at hand. Neither that nor fiction were really any comfort, but he tried to keep his head while he was working at least. Today he’d been asked to go take photos in and of a certain mansion, made famous by some local urban legend. Haunted, they’d said. None of his colleagues had wanted to take the offer up, so he’d been the one to oblige the client. Nothing to be scared of when you have your own ghosts around every corner, right? And if there was a chance of meeting the dead inside...

It was an old building, years of neglect stripping away any personality it might’ve had and replacing it with a strange, lingering malaise. The general public understood well enough to stay away, but he strolled in without a second thought once he’d slung his camera bag over his shoulder. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t put out that tiniest smoldering coal of hope. That he could walk in and find Kougami again. That he hadn’t really killed his lover one stormy night two months ago. He was fine, he was alive, and he’d be waiting just on the other side of this faded threshold. 

Inside was about what you’d expect: rotting floorboards, doors hanging off of hinges, screens with their paper peeling from the frames. No electricity, of course, which made the shadows dance in the corners of his eyes. Ginoza ignored them at first, making a halfhearted attempt at focusing his work. He armed the flash on his camera before stepping around carefully to find whatever intact structure might stand out to him. He was told to look for places you might catch a spirit, whatever that actually meant, but he’d be damned if he was just going to turn in a bunch of photos of dark corners and warped windows. He was depressed, not blind, and he always took pride in his work. 

After exploring for a while, he noticed one particular corridor seemed to stretch farther than the others, almost unrealistically. If he really believed in anything like that, he’d say it called to him. Pulled him in with promises. Of what, he couldn’t exactly say. He just knew they were whispered, and who was he to say no when he’d come in with his fool’s heart tainted by hope? It was too dark to see properly, so he kept near the wall and advanced slowly. 

As he continued, he began to make out a shadowed figure near the end. He tried calling out a cautious, “Hello...?” But there was no movement. Just an eerie stillness, as if everything in the world had stopped for this moment. His heartbeat was suddenly louder than anything he’d ever heard, drowning out his footsteps, his breathing, his thoughts. His mind went blank, his hands shook. But his resolve stuck, so he took a step forward. As he got closer, though, he finally realized it was just an old houseplant, its strange limbs somehow standing proud despite being long forgotten. It was almost petrified, giving a hint of truth to the unnatural pause still hanging in the air. 

Ginoza cursed himself and whatever else might be listening for... getting his hopes up? He didn’t even know anymore. He made a mental note to get his eyes checked next chance he could. He wore glasses, sure, but they only served to provide a barrier between himself and the real world. He figured if he could put up something, anything, to keep his distance, then he might as well. They were a comfort to him, so if he needed to upgrade to an actual prescription, at least it wouldn’t feel too strange. 

Despite his initial apprehension toward the plant, he reached out to touch it. The leaves were withered and stiff, but it might make interesting enough subject matter from the right angle. A splash of life that once had been in this grey-tinged space. Proof that someone had lived here and called it home at one point, maybe. But as quickly as he brushed his hand against the foliage, he pulled it back. 

A sharp bite of frost had nipped his fingertips, and he watched as it manifested, strengthening and spreading to the surrounding floor and wall. A chill ran through his body and he shivered while his breath grew heavier in the air. This was too strange for a freak cold front to have rolled in. Even if this was a rundown mansion, he was inside! There’s no way any temperature shift would reflect so fast. Despite this, he did have a job to do. It wasn’t terribly uncomfortable for him, having dressed in his long green cardigan with a light sweater underneath. So he did what he did best these days: ignored the problem, and grabbed his camera.

There was a doorway to the left, a sliding partition slightly ajar to let the inviting shadows call passersby inside. Ginoza did still have a client to please, so he angled his camera to include it, breathed out slowly to steady himself, and clicked the button. 

As quickly as the shutter snapped, a figure appeared in the doorway. Reeling, Ginoza dropped his camera, the strap around his neck catching it while he stumbled back into the wall behind him. He blinked the daze away as fast as he could in the darkness, only to have all rational thought wiped out of his mind in an instant, eyes wide in disbelief. It was him. It was Kougami, who then turned and walked into the inky black room that had been behind him. 

Ginoza staggered forward a step, doing his damnedest to make sure he wasn’t just making this up in some moment of subconscious desperation. He caught on the frame Kou had passed, the sliding door pushed clear out of the way at some point. He couldn’t stop himself before he shouted, “Kou? Kougami!” He tripped and fell to his knees, but he scrambled up again faster than he ever thought possible, terrified he’d lose sight of his love again. Kougami strode unhearing around a corner toward the back of the room, and Ginoza took off after him. Nothing in the world would have been able to hold him back or stop him. 

He whipped around that corner and Kou was still there. Somehow. “Shinya!” Gino cried, his voice cracking just enough to betray the emotions he did so well to keep a lid on. A lump formed in his throat. Kougami finally stopped and turned, looking back over his shoulder with that grin he always had. Haughty, full of himself, and exactly what Gino loved about him. “How are you here? What’s going on?! Kougami, where the hell have you been all this time?!” He couldn’t help the myriad questions or the anger that poured into them. He was so mad at everything; Kou for leaving him, of course, but himself most of all. How could he ever forgive himself? If Kougami was here, though, maybe it would all be okay again. He could say everything he’d ever wanted and apologize and they’d go back to how they were. Tears pricked at his eyes, threatening. 

But Kou didn’t say anything. He just kept smiling, a sadness creeping into his features. Ginoza didn’t like that. His fiancé seldom looked so forlorn, and he could feel his heart breaking again, hurting even more now that he realized he still had a heart to break at all. “Shinya, please... I didn’t mean it. You know I never mean things like that. I’m so sorry, I was only trying to...” Kougami turned as if to leave once more. “No, please! Wait! Not again! I can’t do this again!” He reached out desperately to hold his lover, grab his hand, something, only for the whole world to be ripped away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shinya! Please, I still have so much to say!”

Chapter 2

Gino’s knees hit the ground again, hard, though it was stone this time instead of wood. He threw a hand to his mouth as he retched, doing his best to hold back the bile rising in his throat while his mind failed to comprehend what had happened. It was as if the very fabric of the space around him had warped and dumped him out somewhere entirely different, his new surroundings even less familiar than those of the manor before. 

“Kouga... mi...?” He whispered, shocked. 

But the only answer was an eerie quiet, a world he never knew could be so still. 

He took a moment to just breathe, close his eyes and rationalize everything. He was tired, that’s all. He’d overworked himself. It’s not as if life-altering trauma can go away in a paltry two months, who was he kidding? He can only push his feelings down so far below the surface before they bubbled up somewhere else, and apparently they had decided to manifest as entirely all-too-real hallucinations. 

He’d clearly gone too far this time and all he could do was get more angry with himself. He’d gotten enough material to satisfy the client, he was sure, so it was time to go home. Home where he could take care of his plants and his dog and get some god damn sleep for once. He cradled his camera to his chest and braced himself before pushing back up to his feet. 

But he didn’t know where he was anymore. He glanced around, and it really was an entirely different room. Was he even still in the same mansion? There’s no way he could’ve been so far gone as to wander somewhere else like this without knowing... right? He needed to get out of this place. Now. There was a door nearby, so he pushed it open and headed into the hallway, just a hint of fear biting at his heels. 

It was even darker than he’d imagined it could be, almost as if everything had the color bled clean out of it, save for a gentle blue hue. It did little to calm him. Ginoza remembered he had a small flashlight on the keys in his pocket and grabbed it out in an attempt to make sense of where he could possibly be. It didn’t help much, the light mostly catching on the many dust particles in the air, but it would have to be enough. 

He crept forward carefully at first, but picked up the pace when he realized he could hear strange cries in the distance. His sudden appearance here and subsequent questionable mental state already had him feeling (understandably) on edge, and he definitely didn’t need the ambience to accompany either of those things. 

He cleared winding hallways and checked into the various rooms he passed, but in the end they all looked too similar. It just seemed like he was going in circles. The frustration that he wasn’t making any progress began to win out over the panic that nagged in the back of his mind.

Finally, though, after what felt like hours, he came upon some stairs at the end of a corridor. He couldn’t tell if he’d missed them before or if they’d somehow appeared for him, and at this point he just didn’t have it in him to care. He was tired of this grim, stagnating atmosphere and he wanted out. 

The top led Ginoza to yet another corridor. Ridiculous. But this one mercifully opened up into what was surely a foyer of sorts, its grand decor reduced to a state of decay like everything else he’d come across here. He still had no idea where he was as a whole, but it definitely wasn’t in any better shape than the house he’d been sent to photograph. 

He paused to look around a bit, familiarizing himself just in case. Of what, he couldn’t quite place, but his intuition told him it would be wise not to ignore his surroundings. There were a few exit options, some with doors and some without. 

Framed perfectly across from where he’d walked in, though, was what had to be the main entrance. It wasn’t terribly assuming, but it stood out enough with its wider set of ornate sliding screens instead of the simpler ones most rooms had up until now. It wasn’t too much to go on, but honestly, what else was he going to do at this point?

A few steps toward his goal and he stopped dead in his tracks. Kougami had appeared again, facing his same destination with a brief pause before continuing on his own without even looking back. Any trace of exhaustion was once again snapped out of Ginoza’s body with pure adrenaline. 

“Shinya! Please, I still have so much to say!” He was already choking back the lump in his throat again.

But he was already gone, faded into nothing. Hesitation forgotten, Gino sprinted across the room and threw the screens open. 

And just like that, he was out. It looked like he’d found a courtyard of sorts. It was square, with a beautiful stone garden in the middle and more buildings pulled close on each side. He took a moment to put together just how massive this place was before he noticed it was snowing. Large, fluffy flakes gently floated down and added even more layers of mystery and melancholy. At least he hadn’t been imaging the chill, but it definitely wasn’t winter. So where (and when) was he? 

He would worry about that later. Weather wasn’t nearly as important as the matter at hand, and Kougami had appeared again on the direct opposite side, walking up the porch to that part of the estate. Whatever was in there must be important, and Ginoza had to meet him there. He could feel the answers he sought just out of reach. Or so he hoped, the damn fool that he was. 

“Wait!” He called out, but he knew it was in vain. 

He’d been ignoring the inkling, but it was really beginning to sink in that something was wrong. That his Kougami wouldn’t be ignoring him like this, no matter what. But there was that coal inside his heart still, insistent and smoldering and sparking flame when it had no right to. So Ginoza took those steps forward. He left his hesitation behind as he walked around the arrangement in the middle and entered the new building. 

The doors slammed shut behind him and he realized what he’d done. There’s no way he could regret following after his fiancé, but he cursed himself for doing it so recklessly. He had no idea where he was, and this was no time to be so thoughtless. Another check mark on the long list of things to beat himself up over. 

He’d found himself in a corridor with no end in sight, anything along those lines long disappeared into the darkness with his small flashlight offering zero assistance. The air was thicker somehow despite the missing left wall, letting the snow drift in unassuming. He felt a strange pressure trying to weigh him down and pull him into oblivion. And on top of it all, Kougami was once again nowhere to be found. It was all so oppressive, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Before he could think to begin calling out, however, there was movement along the edge of the shadows far ahead. He shifted his weight forward and squinted, trying to get a better look at what it could be. It didn’t have the same silhouette as Kougami; he would’ve recognized him much sooner. Whatever it was advanced almost sporadically, seeming to wink in and out of existence from one side to another, and it was fast. With half the length between them cleared already, Ginoza shook off his daze as best he could and tried the doors behind him. Locked. Of course. All he could do was face whoever it was and brace himself as best he could, then. 

The person’s features were finally discernible: it was a young man, clad only in hakama. Dark tattoos covered every inch of exposed skin, even his face. His shoulder-length white hair, a stark contrast to it all. A cloying malevolence hung around him, making it even harder to breathe than it felt to begin with. And he wasn’t stopping. Ginoza backed into the locked doors, pulling himself away and trying to make himself as small as possible. But he was in the man’s sights. He knew he was. And there was no escaping. 

But he stopped. What couldn’t have been more than an inch from Ginoza’s face, he stopped, yellow eyes wide open and presence absolutely stifling. He had tattoos there, as well, Gino noticed. Then it all went black. 

Ginoza snapped to, a sharp inhale the only reaction he could muster as he found himself on his back, cold stone biting into his skin. His clothes had been replaced with just a thin white robe. He tried to get his bearings, twisting and pulling, but he was bound in place. His arms and legs were pulled straight, distributing his strength and making it even more difficult to struggle. 

Panic finally slammed home full-force when he looked beyond himself and noticed four young shrine maidens approaching. They didn’t look intimidating at first glance, but their faces pulled further and further into gleeful grins as they crept closer and ignored his frantic pleas. 

“What are you doing? Who are you? Where am I?!” He kept trying, pulling at his restraints with everything he had. But there was no answer. Only twisted smiles and muted giggles. 

One girl for each limb, he realized, as they kneeled in unison near his hands and feet. They all had a stake. They all had a hammer. They lined up the giant nails, pulled back their mallets, and-

Just like that, Ginoza was back. Back in the room that had been ripped out from underneath him what felt like decades ago. He’d only been in it for a few minutes at most, but it was a familiar sanctuary to him now. His heightened heartbeat and panicked breathing were the only sign he’d even been gone as he noted his clothes were normal again. His hands were free of any puncture wounds. His heart sank when he came to terms with the fact that Kougami was still nowhere to be seen. No trace of him even in the dust that had been at his feet. There was nothing for him here anymore. 

Numbed by his rollercoaster of encounters, so recent yet so far away, he stumbled out toward the hallway. He set his head against the doorframe, just for a moment. The plant was still here, long since thawed. If it had even been frosted to begin with. He really was losing his mind. He’d fallen far enough into this abyss, he thought. 

He made an internal promise to schedule an appointment with a therapist first thing tomorrow morning, then collected his camera bag and walked out of the mansion. Back to his car. Back to safety. Back to being alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fatal Frame is an awful lot of running around old, monochrome mansions. I hope I conveyed that while still keeping it fairly interesting :’) I’m also not entirely sure about Makishima as Reika but... we’ll make it work lmao


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’ve gotta be honest, I tried to escape you. But the orchestra plays on._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is baby because I didn’t feel like shoving the next plot point in here would’ve flowed super well LOL

When Ginoza entered the mansion he’d set out to photograph, it had still been morning. When he left, it was nearly evening, the sun sinking low like his heart. He drove home in a daze, barely operating on autopilot as he did his best not to dwell on his apparent stress-induced fever dream. 

Through all his attempts, though, he couldn’t stop thinking about his encounters. A place that shouldn’t exist populated with people much the same. Why beckon him? Why lure with promises that were never meant to be kept? All he could do was guess in circles, the faintest whisper of a clue any of it even happened hiding inside his camera. He dug it out of its bag and headed to the dark room once he got home. 

When he and Kougami had moved in, they’d both agreed to convert one of the rooms into a workspace for Ginoza. It was so much more convenient to be able to develop photos from home, and of course Kou wanted his partner to deal with as little stress as possible. It was nice for anything he’d have to do last minute, and Gino would admit, he had a habit of getting perhaps a bit too worked up when under a lot of pressure. 

Today, he hoped it would help placate his wandering mind. Maybe not much, but enough. He clearly needed sleep tonight, even if it meant staying up a little later than normal to get the only answer he possibly could for now. 

He let the sink run while he poured the developer, stop bath, hypo clear, and fixer into their respective tubs. Some people thought the smell of the chemicals was a bit too pungent, but lately especially, Gino had found it to be a comfort more than anything else. 

He lingered in the aromas for a moment, then spooled his roll of film in the dark box for processing. His practiced hands made quick work of it, going through the motions he’d easily done a thousand times before. Wind up the negatives. Dunk and gently agitate the reel in chemical after chemical. Rinse in running water for a few minutes. Leave it to dry. He set the timer on his phone for just over two hours. 

He thought it best not to engage in anything too strenuous in the meantime, opting to play fetch with Dime while sitting on the back porch instead of going for a full-fledged walk. It wasn’t the same, they both knew, but his dog had been excited to see him come home either way. It was still a nice way to unwind for a while, to enjoy the here and now. He did his best not to stare at the clock counting down. 

Finally, shortly after finishing dinner and taking care of a few household chores to stay active, the light chime emanated from his phone on the counter. He turned it off and headed back down the hallway as he rolled up his sleeves. 

He didn’t try to look for the photo that Kougami should have been in. He preferred to pull the veil down over his eyes and trick himself into believing he was just getting a jumpstart on his work. The sooner this was done and he was paid, the sooner he could put it all behind him. Right? Right. That’s all this was. 

He clothespinned photo after photo up on the lines he had strung above his processing area, keeping the matching negatives clipped between them. Everything looked great, for the most part, maybe one or two duds standing out. And then there it was. What he’d been waiting for these past few hours. What he felt he’d been waiting for these past few months. 

He held the picture up as it faded to life in his hands, the petrified plant staged on the right and... Kougami in the doorway on the left. He dropped it back into the solution he’d plucked it from. After everything he’d subjected to today, everything he’d been trying to forget, this was what would do him in. 

His hands were shaking and he immediately felt sick to his stomach. He crouched, still holding onto the sink while he rested his head on the rim and just closed his eyes. This couldn’t be happening. There’s no way this was real. Disbelief and dread washed over and submerged him like the photo he’d just dropped. This whole time he could write it off as some wretched daydream, a delusional fit brought on by the culmination of grief, trauma, and exhaustion. But now? 

Minutes upon minutes passed until he was calm enough to put together that ignoring it wouldn’t do him any good. Neither would staring at it all night though. It was already late, and he’d sworn to himself he’d get some decent rest. He put the picture up like all the others while avoiding looking directly at it. It was time for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for all the photo development flex it is a process that I miss dearly :(


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “... the bottom had an engraving that simply read ‘Camera Obscura.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3 was delayed because I didn’t wanna release it alone with how small it was :> and then I totally hit a wall with how I wanted to write this! so sorry for the wait!! ;3;

It was cold. Ginoza rolled over to grab more blanket, a pillow, his dog... but nothing was there. He snapped straight up and couldn’t believe it: he was back. He’d been pulled into that lifeless hellscape again. 

He scrambled to his feet, grabbing the flashlight he’d sent skittering away in his haste to be upright. He didn’t know why or how it was there but he wasn’t going to complain for now. There’s no way this wasn’t a dream, so going with the flow was probably best anyway. Cognition or whatever. He didn’t have time for this. 

He slammed through the nearest door. If he’d been fed up earlier today, he was long past that line now. He never knew how to relax, not really. Tension incarnate, Kougami had called him once, gently chiding him to loosen up sometimes. But Ginoza had been comfortable, warm, and safe in his own bed in his own house. He couldn’t fathom the reason he’d been forced to visit this mansion to begin with, but he certainly didn’t appreciate being dragged back here again. 

A few paces out, however, Ginoza slowed to a stop. The atmosphere hadn’t exactly been inviting before, but somehow it felt different this time. More suffocating, somehow. But maybe that could be attributed to his quickened heart rate, how his lungs felt restricted in his chest and how he just couldn’t seem to focus. His hands were shaking and all he could do was stand there, getting mad at himself like always. 

He tried to remember what Kougami would do to help him calm down. He could almost hear his voice, his laugh, a phantom embrace around his shoulders. 

“Hey, Gino. Take it easy, okay? I’m here! Nothing can hurt you. Just try to calm down.”

It felt like they’d been together forever, his partner the constant courage by his side. Even if Kou couldn’t physically be there, he’d always pick up the phone and walk him through the steps, talking to him until he felt well enough to get back to his own business. 

Gino didn’t want to sit here, vulnerable, so he steadied himself against a nearby wall and did his best to take a deep breath. And another. He closed his eyes for a brief moment to concentrate and tell himself he was going to get out. He’d done it once. He could do it again. Don’t think about how unpleasant it was, don’t linger on the terrible visions. Just remember that it could be done. 

Ginoza felt his pulse slow enough to open his eyes again. The hallway had stopped spinning, at least, and he knew he shouldn’t stay unaware of his surroundings for too long. He could beat himself up more about it later, but for now he had to keep moving or... he didn’t know what would happen. 

Farther up to the left, there was a room with a soft glow emanating from it. The only warmth he’d seen here, a gentle orange that somehow permeated the blue that bled into everything else. He carried on, still feeling the prick of fear but honestly, what did he really have to lose?

Ginoza edged in carefully, surveying the area before committing to entering. It was pretty plain overall, more or less bare aside from a few broken partitions and a large, empty closet long missing its door. The candle casting light out into the hallway was off in the far corner on a tall stand, small but somehow still illuminating well enough that he didn’t need his flashlight. When he moved to turn it off, though, a sheen at the candleholder’s base caught his eye. 

Creeping closer with utmost caution, he knelt down to inspect it. A large, old camera. The front was fitted with a metal circle around the lens, strange symbols etched around its circumference. The backside was more standard, a small viewfinder and an indicator light he assumed was for the flash, along with a door for the film. The shutter, flash, and rewind release buttons were on the top, and the bottom had an engraving that simply read ‘Camera Obscura.’ As much as he loved photography, he’d never once named a camera or heard of anyone who’d done so. To each their own, he supposed. 

He pulled it up to take an experimental shot, the device lacking anything to notify him how many photos were left on the film equipped. A quick snap, and he could tell it was functioning well enough. The strap attached to it seemed old and worn, but still rather sturdy, so he trusted it to hold out as he slung it around his neck and made his way back out of the room. He couldn’t say exactly why, but whatever meager amount of signs he could discern seemed to point to him keeping it with him. He figured it wouldn’t hurt. 

Before he could make it to the door, there was a thud out in the hallway. His current visit largely devoid of unnerving sounds so far, he froze where he stood, shaken. He folded his hands together to try and calm the tremors, but to no avail. What if it was the white-haired man again? What if he didn’t wake up before the stakes were driven in this time? But in the end, there were no other options. This room only had one exit, and if nothing else, Ginoza had more resolve than to wait for death to come to him. 

He peered around the corner toward the sound, and saw someone. Farther up where this corridor intersected with another, he was slumped against the wall, sitting on the floor. He held his hands up to his ears, as if there was too much noise and he was trying to drown it out. Ginoza inched closer, and the boy was mumbling to himself. 

“It should’ve been me. Why didn’t they take me too? It’s not my fault. I didn’t choose to survive. If I die, then maybe everything will be okay. It’s the only way. It’s the only way...” 

His mantra continued, a jumble of self deprecation that Ginoza wasn’t completely unfamiliar with. He gathered whatever courage he had and crouched down a little. 

“Excuse me. Are you lost here too? Are you hurt?” 

He felt silly asking when the other young man didn’t seem to be doing well at all. He didn’t want to just up and leave him, though. No matter his own feelings, it wouldn’t have sat well with him at all. He had enough regrets to carry. 

After giving him some time, Gino reached out to nudge his shoulder, just a little. Just to get his attention. Before he could make contact, the boy’s head flew up, his eyes wide. His whole body started to shake like a leaf. 

“What’s wrong? Please tell me. I’m stuck here too, we can help each other.” 

It felt strange to act so familiar with someone he didn’t even know. He was never good at meeting people. But this could be his only chance out of here, and these really were extenuating circumstances. He could let the anxiety catch up with him later when they made it out. When, not if. 

Still no answer. That terrified look was plastered to his face. But when Gino moved just the slightest, he noticed it was directed behind him. Not at him. Something was coming. There was no sound, but now the approaching pressure was unmistakable. 

He turned, and there he was at the opposite end of the hall. The man with white hair, advancing with malevolent conviction. He heard the boy behind him break through his panic, shouting and taking off to the left. Ginoza actually had a chance this time, no doors to lock behind him and no dead ends. He took off to the right, into the darkness. 

Despite the head start, he could feel the breath on the back of his neck almost the instant he turned away. Harsh rasping and a grating, high-pitched whine that only kept getting louder. He’d never been overly athletic, but Ginoza found it in him to run even faster. He’d completely forgotten about the flashlight he’d stuffed into his pocket, but up ahead was a large door braced by two large sconces. He hoped and prayed and wished it was the exit he needed. He didn’t necessarily believe in any of those things on a good day, but grasping at straws isn’t exactly voluntary when fear wipes out most of your rationality. 

Closer. Closer. Both the door and his pursuer. He wasn’t looking back to see how close he was, but Gino didn’t feel like he had much leeway. He was almost there. And then he felt a brush on his left shoulder, colder than death itself. A jolt of pain, emotional and physical, making his very soul shiver. 

“Let me sleep... forever...” the voice choked out. 

It resonated in his head like it was the only thing he knew and the only thing he’d ever know. But the door was right there. The man hadn’t stopped him. He slammed into the wood full-force, and was greeted by daylight. 

He woke up gasping, shooting bolt upright as soon as he was conscious. Dime gave him a worried look from his bed on the floor while Ginoza tried to catch his breath. At least he was home. He was in bed. He was safe. It was just a bad dream. He had plenty of these, so he could shake this one off too. 

Then the pain hit. The same shoulder that had been touched. It started from that exact spot and spread, feeling so much more than just a bruise. All he could do was curl into himself and grasp at it, waiting for it to pass. In a moment, in an eternity. It all felt the same. But he righted himself after a time, even if he was shaking. 

He got up to wash his face, thinking maybe it would help, just a little. He didn’t even look at the clock, but he figured he was awake for the day now anyway. He splashed himself with some cold water and scrubbed, trying to wash away the events of the entire past 24 hours. He needed a reset now more than ever. But that wasn’t happening any time soon. 

It caught his eye just before he went to turn off the light. His left shoulder, covered in a huge, ornate bruise. Brilliant purples and blues spread over his pale skin so briefly before it all simply faded away. He turned and pulled at his tank top, trying to follow it. And then it was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I slammed like 80% of this out in an evening without proof reading it at all teehee


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _would you lead me to my doom?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m SO SORRY this took so long!!! turns out it’s tough to adapt something to the ideas in your head when you have zero experience :’) I didn’t read through this too many times so I hope it’s okay until I can update again! 💖

Ginoza started awake with a gasp. A moment’s silence before the cold bit into him again, raw and relentless. It was spreading, brilliant hues carrying the bruise down his arm past his elbow now. He didn’t care to try and check the mirror for his back, even if he could move. He felt it etching itself into his skin down to the bone and beyond, almost over to his right shoulder. 

Every time it was almost too much to bear. Every time he doubled in on himself to try and brace against it, eyes squeezed shut as if it could keep everything else out too. And every time, he heard, ‘Hey, Gino,’ echoing from whatever distant corner of his mind. The phantom of a comforting arm around him. An illusion he would readily cling to and use to leverage himself out of this hell pit.

It faded as it always did. From stabbing pain, to an ache, and then a dull throb. His breathing stabilized after a handful of minutes and he was able to gather as much of himself as there was these days. 

It had been a week since the dreams started, and he certainly wasn’t getting any more accustomed to them. He’d ready for bed, only to wake in that cursed mansion again. Haunted. Hunted. He hadn’t encountered the white-haired man since that last time yet, but... he could always feel his presence, and he was never far off. 

He hadn’t seen Kougami again, either. And that hurt more than anything. Ginoza couldn’t put together what he’d even been thinking. His fiancé was dead at his own hand. What was there left to find but the same grief and loneliness he’d grown to know? Now more than ever he found himself wishing the nightmare would just take him since the accident hadn’t deigned to finish things itself. One final sharp pang cut through his shoulder down to his core as if brought on by such a terrible thought, causing him to wince. But the discomfort passed, and it was time to move on. 

Dime was staring up at him from the foot of the bed, his large, caring eyes filled with a dog’s concern for his best friend. Ginoza patted him on the head for whatever reassurance he could offer and got up to start his day, reluctant as ever. 

Make breakfast, walk Dime, wash up, do some housework. Today was a day off, a simple and mindless routine he could fall back on when he needed to at least attempt to relax. He was thankful for that. But of course that was harder lately, getting caught up in puzzling out the mystery seeping out of his nightmares. It let the memories filter through to his heart he tried to guard so well, superimposing the love he’d never know again over the shell of everything they’d had. 

Gino had decided to get some dusting done today when he heard it, snapping him out of his twisted reverie. A hard, pronounced thud from the second floor. He gave it a moment, wondering if perhaps his dog had found some mischief to get into or if the weather had just made the house shift somehow. Thud. Thud. It wasn’t as rhythmic as the chiming he’d heard in his dreams, but the recurrence was raising a fog in his mind that let a blanket of fear sink in instead. He spotted Dime in his bed by the sofa, and as he wandered toward the staircase, it became clear that it was coming from Kougami’s study. 

Maybe someone had broken in, somehow. It was awful that he found some manner of comfort in that, and he frowned inwardly as he cursed himself. He started up the stairs cautiously, having grabbed a nearby broom in case whoever it was decided to exit the room prematurely. 

Ginoza paused outside the door and listened, more tense than he ever thought possible. The sounds were growing softer and more spaced out, but the intruder was definitely still in there. He steeled himself; he didn’t want to enter. He hadn’t dared trespass on Kougami’s workspace since the accident, only coming in to close the curtains in an attempt to preserve any moments he could. A time capsule, sealed as if daylight could eventually bleach memories themselves and fade them from existence. 

Deep breath. Always with the deep breaths. He wasn’t sure if they actually did anything outside of a lasting placebo effect from Kougami coaching him through them so many eons ago. Old habits are hard to shake even after all he’d been through. His hand trembled as he reached for the doorknob, but he felt a light, warm pressure on top of it like something or someone was trying to help him keep steady. His imagination running wild to give him some semblance of comfort again. 

Ginoza committed and shoved the door open, trying to catch the person off guard. But there was nothing. No one. He was only met with silence and nostalgia. All of Kou’s belongings were exactly as they’d been left, a thin blanket of dust covering his organized chaos completely undisturbed. 

Kougami had never been the cleanest person, but there was always a method to his madness. Everything right where he could find it and where it made sense to him. Ginoza could usually figure it out, thankfully, but even to the trained eye it was a bit of a clutter. Bookshelves packed with novels, science journals, studies, and memoirs, with even more piled here and there on the floor. A few cork boards along the walls, fit to burst with memos, news clippings, photos, postcards, and letters. 

The desk was the most organized, a lamp on one side with myriad writing tools collected in a cup on the other. Some papers stacked along the edges, but the middle was cleared save for a featureless black book, a few tabs of different colors sticking out of the top. A diary or maybe a collection of research, Ginoza wasn’t sure. 

He was still wary. He hadn’t found the source of the noise, and with his nerves as shot as they were, he’d likely lose what was left of his mind if he didn’t dig up some kind of explanation. That book, though. It drew him in, forcing itself into the center of his focus and drawing all else away. He’d never pressed Kougami for details on what work he was currently submerged in, but being a remnant of what once was made it difficult to ignore. Coupled with how he’d already tried to remain numb throughout this whole ordeal, he found he had little hesitation left as he reached for it and carefully cracked it open. 

Flipping through, there were pages upon pages of urban legends, myths, rumors. Most gruesome beyond measure. One, an entire village sacrificed to eternal darkness where none who entered ever returned. Another, involving a mansion similar to his own tale. Reports of people who dared approach pulled apart at the seams by ropes to satisfy an ancient ritual if they were caught by the residing spirits. 

Finally, there was the manor of sleep. News articles were taped in place across some of the pages surrounded by miscellaneous scrawls of information in intimately familiar handwriting, fleshing out stories of victims up and vanishing after being subject to what sounded like the same dreams he’d been having. One day they’d just disappear, leaving nothing but an outline of ash to suggest they’d ever been there at all. Kougami’s citations included notes on how their sanity seemed to diminish over time and even information on which hospitals they’d been admitted to, meaning he’d probably at least attempted to visit them at some point. 

Ginoza left his broom against the wall and picked the book up, turning and leaning back against the desk. He continued, turning to the final handful of pages. He couldn’t help his eyes going a bit wide, lips parting in shock at what he found. The young man featured in this cluster of stories looked exactly the same as the one he’d tried talking to in his nightmare that one night. Brown hair. Mid-twenties at the oldest. His photo made him look more put together than he’d seemed during their encounter, but it was definitely him. 

The name listed was Kamui. Kamui Kirito. He’d been the sole survivor of a plane crash some months ago and, as one would expect, he suffered from it greatly. Survivor’s Guilt, the articles repeated, each one parroting mock sympathy for a situation they could never begin to understand. Despite his physical recovery, his mental health continued to diminish and the only details given were that he was to remain in custody of a local hospital until they deemed he wasn’t a threat to himself any longer. And that was the last of the research. At the bottom was a brief scribble, however. 

“Interview on tape.”

Ginoza turned back around and gently opened each of the desk drawers, but didn’t have any luck finding the tape or player. He remembered having to help Kougami dig it out of the closet a time or two before, so he figured... what else did he have to lose right now? He was already this deep, and if he was being honest, having such an intense focus was keeping his mind off of what exactly he was doing and where he was doing it. It was enough for now and that’s all he needed. 

He pivoted to the left, the desk not being too far from the sliding door that led to the closet space. Carefully prying it open, he quickly found out the light inside had burned out at some point. He remembered seeing a flashlight in one of the desk drawers, so he grabbed it out and leaned into the shelves to begin his search. 

Which was fruitless. Boxes upon boxes of magazines, newspapers, books. Even some of his old photos and photo equipment. But in all of this there was nothing for audio research. Ginoza held his head in his hands. He was exhausted in so many ways, and for what? He knew he was pushing himself emotionally, but he thought he could at least justify it if he’d found just one answer. Which he had, he surmised, but not with the conclusiveness he craved. He straightened out with a sigh and tilted his head back, stretching his neck with a dissatisfied sigh when the attic caught his attention. 

It was difficult to get into with it being in the closet’s ceiling, so he barely used it. But it was insulated fine, and really wouldn’t be a bad place to store any cassettes Kou might have wanted to keep track of while also out of the way. So Ginoza decided to say fuck it. What was the point of all this if he backed out now? More regret, just another body for the pyre? And he reached to pull the ladder down. 

It was a little cooler up there, which was to be expected with its lack of windows and the recent weather. A quick glance and he noticed that there were indeed some materials stored up there, so despite the cramped space, he crawled up and in. 

It was even darker without the office’s ceiling light to pour in behind him, so he balanced the flashlight between his shoulder and neck as best he could while he knelt and began to dig. Some holiday decorations they didn’t usually find the time to set up. Old cables and extra surge protectors. More books. But finally, after what felt like ages to his mind and body, the last box yielded what he’d been searching for. 

The portable tape player sat on top of a pile of cassettes inside, decidedly less organized than anything else he’d come across in his venture. They were all labeled though, mercifully, and it didn’t take long to confirm that the one for Kamui was in there along with a few other names he recognized from Kou’s journal. He figured he might as well take the whole thing down and keep himself busy for a while longer, so he turned his back to the darkness and began to push the container toward the attic’s entrance. He paused briefly to catch his breath, sitting up straight while still on his knees. 

Complacent in his relief, he hadn’t noticed the temperature’s gradual drop. The all too familiar frost creeping along the edges of the room. Visible even in the dim reflection from the flashlight, gleaming in its ill intent. 

A thin, freezing hand reached over his right shoulder and settled atop his arm. He paused. Stunned. Another hand on his left. Its body pressed into his back, and he could feel breathing on the left side of his face. His eyes snapped wide open as he tried to look without turning, his own body wracked with tremors he couldn’t begin to calm. The terror he’d kept at bay, sewn into the far reaches of his mind, ripped itself free to grasp at his heart once again. 

He never had figured out what was making that sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll do my best not to leave things hanging for so long with this next chapter 😭 thank you to anyone who’s been hanging in there!! feel free to hit me up on twitter @phaetniexs if you wanna say hi or anything 🥰


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